The Mellow Summers Mystery Series Boxed Set One: Books One to Four

Mellow Summers Mystery Series

Boxed Set 1

Books 1-4

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents wither are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or location is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Mellow Summers Mystery Series Boxed Set 1

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2015 Janet McNulty

Cover Illustration by Robert Henry

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Contents

Title Page

Sugar And Spice And Not So Nice

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Froga, Snails, And A Lot Of Wails

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

An Apple A Day Keeps Murder Away

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Three Little Ghosts

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Thank you for reading

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Chapter

1

My name is Mellow Summers and I am twenty-six years old. I was never one to believe in ghosts, but all that changed the day I decided to attend a university up in Vermont. I don’t know why I wanted to go to Vermont, considering that I hate the cold. I guess I just wanted to get away from my parents for a while, who had made it their mission in life to tell me how to live. Anyway, like I said, I never believed in ghosts. That is, not until I met Rachel.

It was a beautiful September day when I drove into the apartment complex where I had recently signed a lease. I had no desire to live in the dorms with a bunch of teenagers who had just left home, and were busy living it up at the bars. With my own place, I figured I’d be able to study and have my peace and quiet.

I parked my clunker in the first available space in the parking lot.

Hey, Mel, yelled my friend Jackie as she ran up to me while I heaved my suitcase out of the backseat. Jackie decided to come to Vermont with me. She wasn’t attending classes, but insisted that she needed a change in scenery. I was happy to have a friend with me and an extra person to help with the rent.

Mel, Jackie said, you made it. Mr. Carver is waiting for us upstairs.

I followed Jackie up the stairs to the second floor where our apartment was. It was a simple two bedroom, two bathroom flat. I wasn’t about to complain since we were only paying $600 a month and it was already furnished.

Ladies, Mr. Carver greeted us at the door.

I dropped my suitcase, panting from the climb. I really needed some exercise.

Mr. Carver, I said, did we forget to sign something?

No, he replied. I just wanted to make certain that you two got settled and to give you these keys. He plopped the keys in my outstretched hand.

Hey, Mr. Carver, doesn’t the average rent for a place like this run a few hundred higher? asked Jackie.

Are you complaining about the rent?

No, replied Jackie, I just wondered why you are so willing to rent this to us so cheap.

Mr. Carver sighed heavily. I could have smacked Jackie for this. Why ask such a question when you get a great deal? The former tenant who lived here was murdered, said Mr. Carver. Some believe that her spirit haunts this place. By the way, your lease is for one year and there will be no deposit refund if you choose to break it.

Geez, grouchy isn’t he, said Jackie as Mr. Carver left.

Did you have to ask him about the rent? I asked.

I was just curious, said Jackie as we hauled our stuff inside.

The apartment was beautifully furnished. The entrance led us straight into the living room, which was filled with two fluffy couches and an entertainment set. To the right lay the kitchen, complete with dishes and pots and pans. To the left was the hallway, taking you straight to the bedrooms and bathrooms.

I don’t care if this place is haunted, said Jackie as she plopped down on the couch. You couldn’t pay me to leave this place.

Admiring the décor of the apartment, I shared Jackie’s sentiment. This was a nice place, and affordable. What more could a college kid want?

Drop your stuff, said Jackie jumping to her feet. Let’s go for a drive around town and see what the locals are up to.

I didn’t argue with her. Going for a drive seemed like a perfect idea for such a beautiful, sunny day. We moseyed along downtown, eyeing all of the small shops and cafes. Jackie became more excited with each new shop she found. She loved shopping. As for me, I only shopped when necessary.

We had been friends since we were in high school. Jackie was always the picture perfect model and very outgoing. With her long black hair and Asian features, she was gorgeous and she knew how to dress it up. Compare that to my shyness and typical outfit of jeans and a t-shirt. As for doing my hair, I usually threw it in a ponytail and called it good. But we became fast friends. Jackie always had my back. Her spunkiness helped me get rid of a few unfavorable boyfriends and some of it rubbed off on me. I was overjoyed when she agreed to come with me to Vermont.

Oh, look at that shop, exclaimed Jackie. She pulled into a parking space and we hopped out of the car. We strolled into the store. Jackie immediately grabbed a teal green jacket off of a rack and held it up to me.

What are you doing? I asked.

Seeing if this fits you, she replied. The color matches your eyes perfectly. And it’s only twenty dollars. Now we need a new blouse and slacks to match. And don’t forget the shoes.

Jackie, I don’t have the money for this.

Don’t worry about it. I got it.

Where did you get the money?

I have my secrets.

Reluctantly, I allowed Jackie to pull me from rack to rack. She found a purple blouse that complimented the jacket. Before we were done, Jackie managed to fit me into a pair of black slacks and ballet flats. Seventy dollars later I had a complete outfit to start off the new semester. I had to hand it to Jackie. The girl knew how to shop and she was thrifty about it. She could buy three articles of clothing and manage to get five outfits out of it.

We took our purchases and sat down at an outdoor café for some supper. By the time the sun had set, we arrived back at our apartment and that was when the trouble started.

What the… began Jackie as we walked through the door.

The place looked like it had been ransacked. The couch pillows had been thrown across the room. Our things were spread everywhere. In the kitchen, the cabinet doors hung open, which was odd since they had magnetic locks.

What happened? I breathed.

Maybe the ghost did it, joked Jackie.

Don’t even, I scolded her. I’m calling the cops.

The police arrived within thirty minutes. They took pictures, asked us if anything was stolen, and then left.

Is that it? I asked the uniformed officer as he walked out the door.

There isn’t much we can do, ma’am, he replied. There have been a few burglaries in the area, but we haven’t been able to catch the guys. I’m sure it won’t happen again. Just keep the door locked.

Thanks for the advice, I thought as I closed the door behind him. I can’t believe he called me ma’am.

I know, snickered Jackie. You’re an old mammy ma’am.

I smacked her with a pillow. Help me clean this place up.

We spent the next several hours picking everything up and putting it back. Afterward, we both crashed on the couch and fell fast asleep.

Chapter

2

The next morning, I woke with a start. Eight AM and I had an eight thirty class to get to. I jumped off the couch, knocking Jackie over.

Hey, she whined.

I ignored her and quickly changed into some clean clothes, grabbed my keys, and ran out the door.

Luckily, the college wasn’t far away and I was there in 15 minutes. I managed to squeak into the class just as the professor started speaking.

Cutting it close, said the guy next to me as I slipped into a seat.

I just smiled in response and pulled out a notebook and pen. Yeah, well, my alarm never went off.

That’s the problem with alarm clocks. My name is Greg Dotherson.

Mellow Summers.

Mellow.

Most people call me Mel, I said. I couldn’t stop staring at the man. He was beyond good looking and had perfect teeth.

Well, Mel, nice to meet you.

When you two are finished with your conversation, we’d like to continue. The professor’s voice echoed through the room, effectively shutting us up. Apparently, we had interrupted his welcome to the class speech. Greg and I both turned toward the front, trying not to giggle. It was like being in high school all over again, including the stares.

The professor went on with his speech. His name was Professor Vincent. I just called him Vincent for short. For a guy in his forties, he was rather handsome as well. Hell, all these hot guys and I looked like I just crawled out of a garbage can. My self-consciousness made me miss most of Vincent’s speech.

Hey, it’s time to go, said Greg, nudging my shoulder. You look like you were a million miles away.

I gathered my stuff and left with Greg.

You from around here? asked Greg.

No, I moved here to go to school, I replied. I worked at a diner after high school graduation to save some money for college. And now, here I am.

You live on campus?

No.

I’m not trying to pry.

With all these questions, I said.

Okay. Maybe I was prying a little.

I live in the Alamont Apartments with my friend Jackie.

Really? That’s where I live.

Now you’re pulling my leg, I said.

No, I’m not. I swear, Greg said. I’m thirty and I finally got around to getting my college degree. I don’t care for the rowdiness of the dorms so I got an apartment at the Alamont. Second floor, number 215.

I couldn’t believe it. He lived in number 215 right across the hall from me. What are the chances? My apartment is 214.

The dead girl’s place?

You’re not going to tell me it’s haunted too are you?

No, it’s just that place has sat empty more often than it’s been occupied, said Greg. The landlord has had some difficulty renting it. Not everyone wants an apartment that was formerly occupied by someone who was murdered. And tenants in there never stay very long.

She wasn’t killed inside it!

No, no. Her body was found on campus. But people get superstitious.

Tell me about the girl, I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Her name was Rachel. Nice girl, but she could get a bit wild. Anyway, come October it will have been a year since her murder. The police never found out who did it and so no arrests were made. It’s just become a cold case file.

It’s too bad, too, because she had a lot going for her. She was getting ready to graduate with her degree when it happened.

Suddenly, I felt sorry for this Rachel. And somewhat guilty for taking what had been her apartment. I checked my watch and realized I was late for my next class. What a great start I was off to this semester. I need to run, I said, but it was nice meeting you. Perhaps I’ll see you around.

It was well past suppertime by the time I walked into the apartment. The smell of spaghetti and garlic bread greeted me. Jackie had dinner all prepared. I sat down at the table and reveled in the aroma of a good meal. This is good, I said as I dug into the pasta.

Guess what? I have a surprise. Jackie jumped up and down with excitement. Apparently, she had been waiting all day for me to get home. I got a job!

So soon? How’d you do it?

Well, I walked into this shop, and this guy was making a fuss. Anyway, I told him to shut his mouth and be more polite. I was probably more forceful than necessary. Anyway, the manager saw the whole thing and hired me on the spot. I am now a sales clerk.

I just shook my head. Only Jackie could kick someone’s butt and get a job out of the deal. How much does it pay?

Ten bucks an hour and it’s fulltime so I get benefits. Plus, the manager said that if I knew a friend who needed a job to bring them by. So you and me got jobs.

What about my classes? I asked.

Taken care of, said Jackie as though I had asked a stupid question. I told him that you were attending classes at the university. He said it was no problem. On the days you don’t have school, you can work. Our pay will be enough to cover expenses.

I had to hand it to Jackie. We’ve only been here for two days and already she found us both jobs. But, she has always been good at getting what she wants. Where are we working?

At the Candle Shoppe. We drove past it yesterday.

You’re a piece of work.

So what did you do today?

Well, I met this guy.

And you thought I’d been busy, said Jackie. Is he cute? Did you ask him out?

One at a time. I held up my hand to stop her questioning. Yes, he is very cute and he lives right across the hall from us, in apartment 215.

No way, Jackie exclaimed.

Way, I said. He told me about the girl that used to live here.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah, her name was Rachel and she went to the college here in town. She was killed last October. Her body was found on campus and the police never found out who murdered her.

That’s a bummer, said Jackie with her mouth full of garlic bread. You sure you want to stay here?

I’m sure I’ll be fine. Besides, it happened almost a year ago. What could possibly happen to me?

That is your first mistake. Never ask the ‘what can go wrong’ question. Anyway, I’m off to the shower. I have an early day tomorrow and so do you.

I continued eating my spaghetti after Jackie left. I heard the water turn on and figured she was right. I should think about going to bed. I cleaned up the dishes and put them in the sink. When I turned around, I nearly screamed. Standing before me was a woman of about my height, black skin and gorgeous black braids. She wore knee high boots, a knee length skirt, and a short sleeve, belted jacket.

How did you get in here? I demanded.

Instantly, the woman vanished. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Had I just seen a ghost?

A knock sounded at the door. I jumped. Cautiously, I opened the door and there stood Greg, holding a platter with a cake on it. It was Devil’s Food Cake, one of my favorites, and it had a rose decoration on it.

I, uh, got in a baking mood and ended up baking a bunch of cakes. Since most people like chocolate, I thought maybe you might want one.

I took the cake, still speechless from my ghost encounter just a moment ago. Thanks, I said.

And I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime.

Unfortunately, his question didn’t register and I ended up closing the door in his face. I put the cake on the counter, still wondering what had just happened.

Well that was wonderful, said a voice behind me.

Startled, I whirled around. The same woman had just reappeared. Who are you?

Rachel. And this was my apartment, said the woman. I can’t believe you! A man brings you a cake with a rose and you slam the door in his face.

What?

He was trying to ask you out, you dummy.

Suddenly, I remembered the cake and Greg asking me on a date. I ran to the door and flung it open. Of course, he wasn’t there.

Well, go knock on his door.

You still here? I said.

I never left, said Rachel with her arms folded. Go on. Apologize to him.

What if—," my words were cut off as Rachel shoved me toward Greg’s door. I crashed into it with a loud bang. Suddenly, I had a headache. My knee throbbed as well.

The door opened and there stood Greg. God, he was gorgeous.

Greg, I, umm, I’m sorry about earlier. Before you knocked on my door something had startled me and I guess I was still freaked when you asked me out. I’d love to go on a date with you, if you still want to.

You like Mexican? he said with a smile.

Hell, yes, I did. I’d like anything as long as he served it. I love Mexican, I said, practically melting.

Seven o’clock okay with you?

I’ll be waiting.

It’s a date, said Greg. He closed the door and I went back to my apartment.

Just throw yourself at him, said Rachel.

What? I just stood there looking like an idiot.

By the way, you’re welcome. And you might want to find a really nice outfit and wipe that stupid expression off your face. Rachel dissolved into thin air.

I couldn’t believe it. Not only did I just speak with a ghost, but she helped me get a date, and then proceeded to offer me fashion advice. Could this day get any more interesting?

Chapter

3

"It is ten o’clock in the morning and is a bright sunny day. Be sure to wear a sweater when you go outside, for it is a bit chilly. Now, I believe it is time to… get your lazy butt out of bed!"

I groaned as I rolled over onto my side. I opened my eyes. Rachel stood over me. Oh, no, I said, it wasn’t a dream?

Sorry, sweet cheeks, said Rachel, but it all happened.

Ten o’clock, I thought. My class! I bolted out of bed and then realized that I had no classes today. I stood up and went to the bathroom. I have to get to work and I don’t need your assistance in the shower.

I’m not into that kinky stuff. Rachel glanced down at my bare legs. However, you might want to shave those hairy things before your date tonight.

I slapped my forehead. That’s right! I had a date and, no, I hadn’t shaved for several weeks. It was too much work and I preferred jeans anyway. I grabbed a towel and slammed the door in Rachel’s face. Good-bye, I said to her.

The Candle Shoppe was a nice little store. Despite its name, it had more than just candles. There were accessories, books, scent warmers, incense, and even handmade scarves. The soft lighting in the place provided a calm atmosphere for shopping. I loved it. It was much better than the harsh light of florescent bulbs. Candles littered the place with their flames. A great way to showcase the product.

The manager’s name was Harvey Stilton. I just called him Mr. Stilton. He gave me a nametag, I filled out some paperwork, and he explained my duties. Jackie was already there helping customers. My job was managing the cash register, assisting customers, and restocking shelves.

My first day at work remained uneventful, for the most part. At least, it did, until Rachel showed up. I had an hour to go before my shift ended and she popped in.

Hey, she said as she appeared next to me. Her voice startled me, causing me to send the tea lights in my hands flying across the store. I quickly retrieved them.

What are you doing here? I hissed at her.

I just wanted to know how your first day at work is going, replied Rachel.

I’m trying to work, I cut myself off as a couple people walked by. They looked at me strangely. My smile did little to assure them that I wasn’t crazy. You can’t just show up when it pleases you. Now go away!

All right, fine, said Rachel. I just thought you’d like to know that that guy over there is trying to make off with a bunch of merchandise. She disappeared.

I glanced over at the man she had pointed out. Sure enough, he stuffed his pockets with candles and incense. Figures. My first day and I get a shop lifter. I walked over to the man.

Hey, I said. You going to pay for that?

He shoved me out of the way and bolted for the door. I tried going after him, but was too slow and ended up tripping over my own feet. Rachel appeared at the entrance and kicked him in the gut. The guy doubled over, allowing me to grab him.

What’s going on here? demanded Mr. Stilton as he walked out of his office.

Shoplifter, I said.

Really? Mr. Stilton emptied the man’s pockets. Go on get out of here, he said to the man. If you ever come back here I’ll call the cops.

The guy ran out the door. No doubt he was still wondering what hit him.

You’re welcome, said Rachel as she disappeared again. I was beginning to regret coming to Vermont.

Later that evening, I prepared for my date. Greg picked me up. I borrowed Jackie’s floral, knee-length skirt and paired it with my new blouse and jacket she had bought me. I must admit, it looked good. The Mexican place was an outdoor restaurant. Despite the chill, we managed to stay fairly warm, thanks to the heating lamps they had.

So, said Greg, back story.

You go first, I said.

As I’ve said, I’m thirty and decided to finally go to college. I moved here a year ago and am studying criminology.

Which explains why you are taking a video editing class.

That is an elective I chose to take to fill some credits. And it’s an easy A.

Ah, I said. I am hoping to be an independent filmmaker. Hence, why I am in Mr. Vincent’s video editing class.

So, the great Mellow Summers wishes to be an Oscar nominee.

I was thinking more of an Oscar winner, I said.

The waiter brought our food. I dug into mine immediately after realizing how hungry I really was.

I like a girl with a healthy appetite, said Greg. He watched me stuff a burrito in my mouth. Suddenly, I blushed. So much for first impressions.

Can you tell me anymore about this Rachel? I asked.

Why do you want to know? You aren’t saying your place is haunted are you?

There’s just been little things, I said, hoping to brush aside his comments. Now that Rachel seemed to be making a habit of showing up wherever I was, I wanted to know more about her.

There isn’t much to tell, said Greg. She kept to herself, mostly. However, she did like to frequent the bars. Especially this one place on the corner of Rhinestone and Main. It’s called Zappy’s.

Zappy’s?

"Yeah. Strange name I know, but very popular among the college crowd. There were many times she came home drunk and I’d have to help her unlock her door. But all that started to change when she met Tom. She stopped going to parties and stayed with him all the time.

Her death really is a mystery. No one knows who would want to kill her. The cops focused on Tom at first, but with a lack of evidence, they had to let him go.

Do you think he did it? I asked.

No, replied Greg. He was a nice guy. Full ride scholarship and he worked at the local coffee shop. When he received the news of Rachel’s death, it devastated him. When everything quieted down, he left. Too many people thought he did it and the damage had been done. Once labeled a suspect, it stays with you.

I suppose it does. So, you never knew Rachel?

"Not really well. Like I said, I saw her a few times and helped her into her apartment when she came home wasted, but we were more acquaintances. She seemed like a really nice girl, and, like I said, she did stop her drunken homecomings after meeting Tom. After that they were inseparable.

For the most part Rachel kept to herself. Though there was this one night she came home in a panic.

Panic? I hoped the intrigue in my voice went unnoticed.

It seemed that way. I remember her running to her apartment door. Her hair was frazzled and her clothes were disheveled. Her hands shook, too. I remember that because she had difficulty getting the key into the lock. I helped her open her door and asked if there was anything I could do. She said ‘no’ and so I left her alone.

What happened after that?

Before I closed the door to my apartment, I overheard her try to call Tom. Apparently, she had gotten his voicemail because she left a hurried message. Then she ran out of her apartment, got in her car, and left.

What was the message?

The bit I heard was something about her catching something on camera. Something horrible, and she needed Tom’s help. She did mention that she was headed to the computer lab on campus. That was the last time I saw her. The next morning, I learned that she had been killed.

Her camera?

Yeah, said Greg. She was taking the video editing class as an elective as well. Apparently, making short movies was a hobby of hers. Anyway, her camera was never found and there was no evidence to indicate who killed her. Of course, the cops were so focused on Tom, that I don’t think they even looked at anybody else. Though there was a Detective Shorts—

Shorts? I didn’t mean to interrupt, but the name sounded funny.

Yeah, it is a funny name, but don’t tell him that. You don’t want to be on his bad side. He didn’t think Tom did it. In fact, he seemed to think that someone who worked at the college did, but again, there was no proof.

Too bad.

Why all the questions? Here we are on a date and all I’ve done is talk about a dead girl.

I squirmed uneasily in my chair. Should I tell him that I spoke with Rachel’s spirit? It sounded so crazy that even I wasn’t sure I believed it. Just a few strange things have happened in my apartment that’s all.

Greg laughed. You’re not going to tell me that you think your place is haunted!

I don’t know. I wanted to end the conversation. This was only a first date and to tell Greg I was seeing a ghost wasn’t in the plan. It’s getting late, I said.

Greg agreed and asked for the check, which he paid. That impressed me. Afterward, he walked me home and dropped me off at my apartment. We didn’t kiss or anything. In fact, we just said good-bye.

After I let myself in, I slumped down on the couch. I had a real mystery on my hands. You know, that thing you mostly read about in novels, or watch on TV. I felt like Jessica Fletcher from Murder She Wrote. I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why was Rachel afraid? What was she running from? And who killed her? Then it occurred to me that I had all the answers at my fingertips.

Rachel, I whispered.

How was the date? She appeared on the couch beside me.

It was great, I replied.

Did you kiss?

Uh, no.

She let out an exasperated sigh. Going to play hard to get. I don’t get you.

I shook my head. The conversation was not going where I wanted it to. Rachel, I said, who killed you? I mean, what happened that night you died?

I thought she might be upset at my abruptness, but instead she seemed pleased that someone asked. I don’t know, she said.

You don’t know?

I can’t remember. People think that when you die you suddenly know everything. But that didn’t happen to me. I remember bits and pieces, but nothing substantial. Mostly, I remember being scared and running for my life and then I ended up here. People went right past me. They couldn’t see me, or hear me.

Why is it I can see you? I really wanted to know why I suddenly became Jessica Love-Hewitt from Ghost Whisperer.

"I learned much later that I can decide who sees me and who doesn’t. But I also learned that most people pretend not to see ghosts. Either that, or they are so wrapped up in their own life, that they ignore everything that doesn’t immediately affect them.

Some of the people who lived here before you saw me, but they either passed it off as being crazy, or they just ran away scared. I wasn’t trying to scare anyone. I just wanted to be heard. I also want to know what happened to me. But I need someone living to help.

But you can go anywhere you want and spy on people, I said.

But I can’t talk to them. I’m not sure why I’m able to talk to you. It could be because you haven’t run off scared yet. Will you help me?

I sighed. I wanted to. And I was curious. The fact that her murder has remained unsolved meant that that the real killer was still at large. I shuddered at the thought. I don’t know.

Please, she begged. I need to know what happened.

I sat silent for a while. I did want to know what happened to her, but I also didn’t want to do anything to ruin my new start in life. In the end, I relented. Yes, I’ll help. But you have to promise to quit showing up unannounced.

Yay! squealed Rachel, jumping up and down.

A part of me felt that I would regret this.

Chapter

4

Three weeks passed, and before I knew it, I had buried myself under a mountain of homework. Who knew that college could be this difficult? I had spent each day since my date with Greg scurrying around on campus between classes, darting back and forth from work, and getting home late with just enough time to sleep.

Greg and I continued seeing each other. When not in class, we met for coffee or lunch. I only saw Jackie a few times, mostly when at work. Unfortunately, I hadn’t had time to really investigate Rachel’s death. Rachel’s insistence at showing up whenever she liked didn’t help. I had a feeling this was going to be a common occurrence with her.

The weather had turned a bit colder as we moved into October. I was glad that Jackie had bought me that jacket. It was quite warm.

I jogged across campus with my arms full of books. One more class to go today and I could go home. The late afternoon sun felt nice, but I hadn’t time to enjoy it.

Mel! Once again Rachel appeared from nowhere.

Her sudden appearance caused me to drop my books. They scattered everywhere. Rachel, not now, I said. I knelt down to gather my stuff.

Have you found any leads?

I’m sorry, no. I’ve been busy.

But you said you would help me, whined Rachel.

Rachel, I will help, but you need to give me something to go on. Right now, I’m about as far as the cops got. Now, please, go away. I have a class to get to. We can talk later when I get home.

A couple of people walked by. I continued picking up my books and tried to ignore them. Please, Rachel, I whispered. If I stand here talking to you, people will think I’m crazy.

Oh, please, replied Rachel, you’re way past that. You agreed to help a ghost find her murderer.

"Rachel, you can’t keep popping in when you please. You may be dead,